victim. He knelt down by her, and, to his infinite
relief, found that life was not extinct. He raised her beautiful head.

"Speak to me, mademoiselle, I entreat you," cried he.

All this time Diana was returning thanks to kind Providence for the
fulfillment of her wishes. After a time she made a slight move, and
Norbert uttered an exclamation of joy. Then, opening her beautiful eyes,
she gazed upon the young man with the air of a person just awaking from
a dream.

"It is I," faltered the distracted young man. "Norbert de Champdoce. But
forgive me, and tell me if you are in pain?"

Pity came over the wounded girl. She gently drew herself away from the
arm that encircled her, and said softly,--

"It is I who ought to apologize for my foolish weakness; for I am really
more frightened than hurt."

Norbert felt that heaven had opened before his very eyes. "Let me go for
help," exclaimed he.

"No, no; it was a mere scratch." And, raising her skirt, she displayed a
foot that might have turned a steadier head than Norbert's. "See," said
she, "it is there that I am in pain."

And she pointed to a spot of blood upon the delicate white stocking. At
the sight of this the young man's terror increased, and he started to
his feet.

"Let me run to the Chateau," said he, "and in less than an hour--"

"Do nothing of the kind," interrupted the girl; "it is a mere nothing.
Look, I can move my foot with ease."

"But let me entreat you--"

"Hush! we shall soon see what it is that has happened." And she
inspected what she laughingly termed his terrible wound.

It was, as she had supposed, a mere nothing. One pellet had grazed the
skin, another had lodged in the flesh, but it was quite on the surface.

"A surgeon must see to this," said Norbert.

"No, no." And with the point of a penknife she pulled out the little
leaden shot. The young man remained still, holding his breath, as a
child does when he is putting the topmost story on a house of cards. He
had never heard so soft a voice, never gazed on so perfectly lovely a
face. In the meantime Diana had torn up her handkerchief and bandaged
the wound. "Now that is over," exclaimed she, with a light laugh, as she
extended her slender fingers to Norbert, so that he might assist her to
rise.

As soon as she was on her feet, she took a few steps with the prettiest
limp imaginable.

"Are you in pain?" said he anxiously.

"No, I am not indeed; and by this evening I shall have fo